


Cold, Open Palms and Tealight Candles

by Tooti_Fruity



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Bill and Ted secret santa 2019, M/M, No I will not be taking quiestions, Rated T for brief mentions of drugs, Yes it's a Rent AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tooti_Fruity/pseuds/Tooti_Fruity
Summary: Ted is still recovering from the loss of his muse and lover, Alex, when he meets a mysterious man from the apartment below his.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Cold, Open Palms and Tealight Candles

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Tooti's fic for the Bill and Ted secret Santa exchange, and I got theodeckergf on Tumblr! This is a Rent AU; if you have any questions, most of the dialogue is based on the song "Light My Candle" from that show. If you give it a quick listen, you'll get a better sense of what's going on than if you go in blind. Thanks for reading!

“Come to Joanna’s performance and afterparty tonight, Ted,” Rufus said pointedly. 

“No cash, bro,” he replied morosely. Rufus shook his head, exasperated.

“Then at least come to the show. I’m worried about you, Ted, you need to get out of the house. It’s not healthy to stay here all the time,” he said. Ted scoffed, waving him off.

“I’ll be fine, browski” he said, flashing a winning smile. “I always am,”

Rufus sighed, but he elected not to respond to what was clearly an excuse.

“Well, I’m heading out,” He turned away, but thought better of it, and added, “Think about it, okay?”

Ted rolled his eyes, and Rufus gave him one last sidelong glance before sliding open the large door and slipping out. Ted strummed on his guitar lazily, recreating Musetta's Waltz, and grew frustrated with his lack of inspiration, slamming it to the edge of the couch and burying his face in his hands.

“Time flies...time dies,” he mused. 

There was a knock at the door.

“What’d you forget, dude?” Ted asked, keeping his back turned to the door too long to realize it wasn’t, in fact, Rufus who had returned to retrieve something.

“Got a light?” asked a small blond man, gesturing to the tealight candle in his open palm.

“Oh, I know you!” Ted responded, racking his brain for the man’s name. “I’ve, like, totally seen you somewhere around here-wait, you’re shivering!”

The other man-Beau, wasn’t it?-laughed softly and gestured to the room around him. 

“Oh, it’s bogus, man, they totally turned off my heat, and it’s making me feel kinda woozy,” he explained. “Could you light my candle?” He regarded him with curiosity. “What’re you staring at, man?”

As if snapped out of a trance, Ted shook his head, not unlike a dog shaking water out of its fur, and responded,

“Oh, it’s nothing, you just...remind me of someone-” he began, though-Bryce, maybe?-cut him off.

“I always remind people of…” He rolled his wrist, as if to say, ‘go on’, before turning away, blocking his front from view as he asked,. “Who are they?” Ted shrugged.

“Uh, he died, his name was Alex,” he responded, sadly. (Brad?) let out a sigh, or maybe a gust of air, before turning back around and gesturing to the candle. 

“It’s out again, dude,” he said, continuing with, “Sorry about your friend, bro, that sucks. Could you light it again?”

Ted waved it off, in a ‘it’s not a big deal’ motion, and stepped up to relight the candle.

“Well…” he murmured. “Oh, bro, the wax, it’s-”

“Dripping!” (Bobby?) interjected, gazing up at him through heavy lidded eyes. “I like it between my-” he continued in a low, rough voice.

“Fingers!” Ted cut in, laughing awkwardly. “I figured, bro. Well, goodnight,” 

He waved the other man off, and (Bryce?) seemed to slump his shoulders, though Ted could’ve sworn it must’ve been his imagination, and slipped off, out of the open door. 

Ted rubbed his face with one hand, sighing and collapsing onto the threadbarren couch, but was promptly startled by the sound of a loud rapping on the door frame. He glanced up and scrambled to his feet when he saw that it was none other than the man from before.

“Did it blow out again, dude? That would be most nonexcellent!” he said, flashing the other a smile. It seemed, however, that the blond was much more interested in scanning the floor with his eyes.

“No, bro, I’m pretty sure that I dropped my stash!” he cried, falling to his knees and feeling around in the dim light. Ted, ever eager to help, also dropped to his knees and began to search.

“I could’ve sworn that I’ve seen you somewhere, dude, when I used to go out-uh, your candle went out again, browski,” he observed. The other-Ben was it?-frantically gestured to the ground and groaned.

“I’m sick, I must’ve dropped it; I had it when I walked in, dude. It was good shit too, pure. Where could it have gone?”

Ted, who had since climbed to his feet, couldn’t help but train his eyes on (Blaine’s?) ass. 

“Maybe it’s on the floor, dude?” he suggested, his gaze never straying from the other’s bent form. The other, seeming to sense his stare, slid further back, subtly shaking his hips on the way back.

“Y’know,” he muttered, craning his neck to face Ted. “They say that I have, like, the best ass, this side of 14th street,” He cracked a smile. “Would you say that’s accurate?” he whispered slyly.

Ted sputtered, flushing. 

“What?” he gasped. Blaze, maybe, cackled. 

“You’re staring again, bro,” he said by way of explanation. 

“Oh, uh, no, dude, I, uh...I mean, you do, have a nice, uh, I mean! You look familiar!” he finished awkwardly. 

“Like your dead boyfriend?” the other teased, climbing to his feet and circling Ted.

“Only when you smile, but I’m sure I’ve seen you around, somewhere else,” Ted explained. (Brett?) laughed.

“Have you ever been to the Cat Scratch Club, dude?” he asked. “That’s where work, I dance there,”

Ted regarded him blankly. Brandon, perhaps, sighed, gesturing to his toned form.

“Exotic dancing? I strip,” he deadpanned. “It makes most excellent tips,” 

Ted snapped his fingers in recognition. 

“That’s it, that’s gotta be it! They used to tie you up, bro-”

“It’s a living,” the other said with a shrug. Ted chuckled.

“I, um, I didn’t recognize you without your handcuffs,” he teased, tapping his wrist with two fingers. (Brian?) rolled his eyes and promptly changed the subject.

“We could light the candle, dude,” he offered, holding the tealight up. “Would you light my candle?” he said with emphasis. Ted, seeing the baggy of white powder almost immediately after the other man turned around, picked it up quickly. 

“Why don’t you just forget about all that shit, dude,” he pleaded. “You look like you’re sixteen,”

The blond jerked back to face him.

“I’m nineteen,” he snapped. “But I’m old for my age. I just like to feel good, sometimes,” he explained. Ted gave him a pointed look.

“I used to be a junkie, you know; I know what one looks like,” he responded carefully. (Brayden?) scoffed.

“What did you just pick up?” he asked, an accusatory note in his voice. Ted gave an uneasy laugh.

“Oh, uh, it was just a candy bar wrapper,” he hastily replied, stepping up into Ted’s space so that they were toe to toe.

“That, uh, that was my last match, bro,” Ted murmured. (Bennett?) laughed, and said in a low voice,

“Our eyes can adjust to the dark, man. I mean, that’s what the moon is for,”

Ted laughed.

“That might not be the moon, actually. I heard around that Spike Lee is, like, shooting a new movie down the street,” he commented. Brian, maybe, laughed, and took Ted’s hands in his own.

“You have cold hands,” he whispered. “Big...just like my dad’s,” he elaborated as Ted gave him an odd look. Suddenly, he pulled the other forward, saying, “Do you wanna dance, bro?”

“With you?” Ted asked, confused. (Will? That must be it!) laughed and stared at him as though he were dumb.

“No...with my dad,” he deadpanned. Ted chuckled.

“I’m, uh, I’m Ted. Theodore, actually, but no one calls me that these days, dude,” he responded. The other man laughed, pulling away longingly and then sliding back into Ted’s space and sliding his hands down his back, swaying.

“They call me Bill,” he murmured, voice jovial as he reached into Ted’s back pocket and produced the bag of heroin, dangling it briefly and skipping away. Ted shook his head.

Well. At least he got close there at the end, name wise.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's the end. Thanks for reading! :-)


End file.
